Page 52 of Calling the Shots

“Hell yeah, I was. I don’t want anyone flirting with you—touching you—besides me.”

His eyes flash, then darken, and my belly gets all fluttery. I don’t think I’ve ever made anyone jealous before.

“Okay, Daddy,” I joke, fluttering my lashes, and his hand darts out from beneath the cape and grips my ass. He squeezes and my body instantly responds, my core throbbing.

“If you want me to make it through dinner with your mother, you better not call me that right now.” He growls the words and dampness floods my panties as his hands work my curves, caressing me.

“Fine.” I pop my lip out in a pretend pout. “I’ll save it for later, how about that?”

“Deal.”

“Now stop feeling me up so I can finish cutting your hair. Especially if you value your ears.”

With a throaty chuckle, he slides his hand away from my body and beneath the cape and I get back to work on his hair. A few minutes later, I’m all finished and dusting the strays from his neck.

“How’s that?” I offer him a hand mirror before spinning the chair around so he can inspect the back.

“Looks good, Firecracker. Thanks.”

Mack lowers the mirror and shakes the cape, sandy hair floating to the ground. Then he pulls me onto his lap. I squeal and slap at his broad chest, laughing and kicking my feet.

“What are you doing?”

He answers with a hot kiss, cupping my chin and claiming my mouth with his. I sink into him and get lost in the moment, his strong arms holding me tight against his body. After a long minute, he pulls away and runs his thumb over my lower lip, his gaze serious.

“Kissing my girlfriend.”

My stomach swoops.

Girlfriend.

It’s been a hot minute since anyone’s referred to me as his girlfriend. And it’s never been someone as gorgeous as Mack.

Be careful, Gracelyn. You’re not girlfriend material, not really.

A warning voice chides, but I silence the inner bitch. I’m tired of listening to her. Everything about this—about us—feels right. So, so right. Better than anything I’ve ever known.

Now’s not the time to stop taking chances.

“Oh, I like the sound of that, Daddy.”

Mack growls, his pupils growing wider and impossibly dark as he squeezes my upper thigh. A bolt of pleasure zings straight to my clit.

“What did I tell you about that? Pretty sure your mom’s gonna notice if we don’t make it to dinner. But if you keep it up, I’m not going to be able to resist burying myself in your sweet little pussy.”

Heat unfurls in my belly as a soft groan falls from my lips.

“Right, dinner. Let’s eat fast, okay? No need to play twenty questions with my mother. Besides, I’d much rather skip to dessert.” I trace my tongue along my lower lip seductively and now it’s Mack’s turn to groan.

“You really don’t want to get to dinner, do you, Firecracker?”

I giggle, wiggling out of his grasp and standing. “Not really. But I’ll never hear the end of it from my mother. C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

Unclasping the cape, I free Mack from the salon chair and sweep up as quickly as I can. Then I take him by the hand and lead him through the salon to the kitchen.

Rounding into the bright room, I immediately regret the impromptu invite.

My mother’s set out my grandmother’s good china and a bottle of champagne’s chilling on the counter.

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